


Mr. And Mrs. Caledon Hockley.

by darkandgritty



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:50:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandgritty/pseuds/darkandgritty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe, where Rose chooses to stay with Cal, to save Jack's life. That backfires, when the Titanic sinks, but she marries Cal, and this is the record of a not-so-happy marriage. Very dark. M for a reason, please don't read if you were born after this movie was made. haha. ;)  Just kidding, but no one under eighteen.  This as all of my stories is proving quite dark.  There will be non-con. There is forced abortion, over all a very dark and unhappy tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rose studied her reflection in the mirror. The woman that stared back was nothing like the girl who had climbed aboard that ship of wonders six months ago. Everything that could change between that time and now seemed too. The naive glint in her blue eyes had faded. Her Mother was always scolding her to smile more often, or her fiancee, the wealthy Caledon Hockley would change his mind, and revoke the mercy he had shown her, in proceeding with the marriage, despite her many sins against the agreement she had made, when agreeing to wed him.

In hopes that her Mother's prophecy would come true, she smiled infrequently. Not permitting herself the brief memories of happiness she'd shared before her heart had turned to ice. She only allowed a thaw, on occasion, alone in her bed in the lavish manor her fiancee had purchased after arriving to America. She was under his roof, but he had not forced his way into her bedroom. Though the other invasions he had made had left her addicted to the brown bottled liquid the Doctor kept bringing her, even after the "operation". 

She had agreed to his conditions, before the iceberg had changed the terms. 

Cal hadn't given her many choices. His bodyguard, ever the faithful servant had found Rose and Jack as they held each other, post coitus in the automobile where they had finally consummated their love. They were ripped apart, and it was with anguish she recalled with startling clarity, Jack's face contorted as he called her name, as they were separated for the last time.

She had been led to her own quarters, been told to dress in something appropriate and after what felt like an eternity of waiting, it hadn't been Cal that joined her, but instead that of her mother, looking more frail and drawn then she could remember since the day of her Father's funeral. She would have preferred Cal's slaps to the horror and disapproval on her Mother's face. After a moment of silence, her words cut the silence of the room like a knife.

"You have shamed me, Rose. You have acted worse then a common strumpet, and the only comfort I have in this entire situation is that your Father wasn't alive to see you throw our futures away. " Her Mother's voice shook, and at the end of her tirade, her hand moved to cover her mouth, tears feeling the cold blue eyes her daughter had inherited.

"Thankfully, God has been kind, and your suitor is willing to look past this transgression, given that you spend the rest of this trip here in this room, and that boy who… attacked you, will be seen too in the lower quarters.

Rose's eyes flashed and she was on her feet in an instant. "Jack did not attack me, Mother! I love him. We're going to be married!"

And her Mother turned on her in an instant, backing her into the corner, as rage left her words shrill and uneven. "That will not be happening, Rose. There will be one marriage, to Cal Hockley. You will become his dutiful wife, and we shall all endeavor to put this unfortunate chapter of your life behind us. If not, your Mr. Dawson will find himself at the bottom of the ocean, before this trip is completed. Of that I have every assurance. If you want him to live, you will agree to this arrangement. Otherwise, he will die, and we will arrive in America with only our luggage, and your whorish ways to see us through."

Her promises of Jack's fate should she disagree, and the picture her Mother painted of her future, not nearly as lovely as the image that Jack had drawn of her, struck her. With her face ashen, and her hand at her throat, she whispered. "Yes, Mother. I will do as you say." She remembered the feeling of nearly choking on her own words, as she sealed her own fate.

The impact of the Titanic on the iceberg that destroyed her was remembered like a terrible dream. The screams, and the fighting, her attempts to locate Jack before she was caught. She was placed with her Mother and due to her hysterical outburst, and screams down the corridor when she had realized the danger he was in, even her maid Trudy had been allowed into the lifeboat, and with Trudy's surprisingly strong arms, and the help of the other women in the boat including Molly Brown, Rose was administered a rather large dose of morphine, effectively sedating her.

She had brief recollections of the men of the Carpathia bringing her and the other survivors on board. Her clearest memory was of the reunion with Cal. He had embraced her, and kissed her forehead, his voice sharp.

"Good. All the fuss you put up, I thought perhaps I had lost you as well as the other item of value that were on the ship. I hate to see my things sullied."

The months that followed, were the worst of her life. She had been ill upon arriving in Philadelphia. Originally it had been brushed off, as something to do with the exposure she and so many other survivors had been subjected too. As her nausea continued and her body began to change, her mothers suspicions grew. It was with a home visit from a Doctor Sheffield that her fears were confirmed.

Rose was not notified, until after the procedure had been performed. Cal would not allow the seed of another man grow within his wife, and she had been anesthetized before a word was spoken of her condition to her, or even her Mother. Cal had been informed, and as her Husband to Be, he made the choice for her. One he knew she never would have consented to her of her own volition.

He came to see her when she had awoke, in pain, and in a haze from the medicine she had been given. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and took her hand, studying her for a moment before saying. 

"There was a defect. Something was growing, that was impossible for my virginal bride. It has been taken care of, and the Doctor assures me your womb will be ready for a legitimate child, after our wedding. Rest, now. The Doctor has ordered it." He kissed her forehead, not without fondness, and he left her to her despair. 

Her only comforts in the weeks after that had been the medicine the Doctor only too willingly supplied, and her maid, Trudy, who had seen her through the surgery and after. Her breath had come to smell of the medicinal liquid she had been provided, she encouraged Trudy to mix it in her water, and her tea. She also drank any alcohol that Cal deemed fit to offer her. Her knew found dependance on opiods did not concern him. If anything, it had seemed to tame her a little, and he appreciated that. All the same, he had plans for her. No one slighted him. Not in business, and certainly not in life. He had taken care of her little problem, but she had much still to prove, and after she was his bride he intended to explore the darker side of himself, and if it happened to be at her expense, that was acceptable. After all, she had wronged him. He had done her a favor by accepting her back into his life, but forgiveness was not something he never grasped the concept of.

Rose jumped a little when the door opened and closed behind her, she turned to see her Mother, dressed in an expensive velvet gown, the deepest shade of velvet. Returning her attention to the mirror, not saying a word to the woman who had led her down this terrible path. Ruth clucked with disapproval, at the silence, and moved to take the veil from Trudy who had been just ready to secure it in place.

"It is your wedding, Rose. Surely you could muster a smile? There will be photographers, and I have it on good account, that the paper is hoping to do a section entirely devoted to your wedding. It is lavish downstairs, truly lovely. Like a wedding out of a fairy dream. You should be thrilled. Think of your future. Secured. We can put all of that bad business behind us, you are going to be a very wealthy and powerful woman, Rose. " She secured the veil with ease, pushing the diamond bobbypins in without care to the scalp below it, and adding under her breath. "And if you should do anything to shame me again, or worse, your Husband, you'll wish you'd gone down with that ship."

She stared at her Mother through the gossamer of the veil and murmured darkly. "I all ready wish that, Mother. More then you can possibly know."

Ruth's hands tightened around her daughters shoulder, the cream colored dress below her grasp the only sign at all that not everything was as it should be. Cal had refused for Rose to wear white. Had laughed, scoffing at the idea when the seamstress had come to measure her, and showed him the choices of cloth and colors. Her voice was sharp as she retorted.

"You will stop that whining this instant! I did not raise a fool, Rose, and though your Father spoiled you terribly, I know beneath that is steel. Pull yourself together, and enjoy yourself, regardless of your true feelings. You've certainly enough life experience to draw on now, to know that the world never goes the way you wish it would. You will do as you are told, and you will rise to the occasion, and you will face your new husband with a smile. You will give me legitimate grandchildren for me to coddle, and you will find something to turn your attentions to, so you are not a sniveling bore. You will not embarrass any of us with this behavior any longer. You are no longer a child, and you will begin to act like a lady!"

She closed her eyes, but listened to her Mother's words. Latching on to the part about finding something to turn her attentions too. Something to love. Something to do, that gave her a reason. She considered it, and managed a little nod, murmuring quietly. 

"Yes, Mother. I understand."

The rage in the older womans face quelled and her expression softened.

"Well, thank Heaven for that. Now let's get you married. " 

Rose turned, giving one last glance around the preparation room of the Cathedral Cal had chosen, the same Catholic church he had been raised in. The preparation room was as lovely as all of the other rooms she had found herself in, stained glass windows with images of the Bible depicted in painstaking detail.

She paused, one catching her eye in particular. It was the image of the Madonna, holding her child. The colors were bright, the face of the Mother serene, and that of the blonde-locked toddler Jesus merry with happiness. She was in tears before thoughts could begin to trouble her emotions further. Trudy hurried to her side after opening the door, Ruth going though it quickly, so she could be guided to her seat in the charade that was this ceremony.

Rose took a moment to settle her emotions, grateful for the embrace of her trusty maid. The only one she could go to with her terrible thoughts, and feelings, and who would give her something to drink that always made her feel much better. This time was no different, and Trudy produced a small cup of water, clearly mixed with the usual offering, murmuring lightly. "Jus' a lil' miss, to help you get through."

Rose gave her a grateful half smile and downed the cup, grateful for the haze that followed, as if her riled nerves were veiled, like she was as she made her way down the long aisle, following the blonde haired niece of Cal, as she through white petals down the path. Rose walked down that path, ignoring the faces of his friends and family. Few of her own relations had attended, but a few of those, who were better off, her Mother's cousins, the Fenways, for instance, had arrived just in time that morning to witness her nuptials.

The echoing organ accompanied her as she approached her groom, gripping onto the fall flowers that had been gathered for her bouquet for dear life. Slowly raising her eyes to his, and forcing a smile that didn't meet her eyes, as the Priest began to drone on. The affair an arduous task of kneeling and rising, and kneeling and rising, and Latin chanting, that lasted nearly three hours. 

To her displeasure, no one saw any reason not to join her and Mr. Hockley in Holy Matrimoney, and before she knew what had happened, she had muttered her "I Do's" and he had kissed her before the congregation, and the announcement that followed snuffed out her dreams of ever being a Dawson, how they had existed beyond the death of her beloved was also unanswered. The syllables forming words, and crashing like nails into a coffin.

"I now present Mr. and Mrs. Caledon Hockley."


	2. Chapter 2

Catching her unaware, Cal dipped her easily, and kissed her, once more. It was a kiss with a fair amount of passion and out of place in the conservative church, and amid uncomfortable laughter, and some applause from some of the more rowdy gentlemen. Especially given the perfunctory kiss he had given her for the wedded moment.. For a brief respite Rose forgot where she was, and returned it, before she was placed upright again on her fight.  
Rose's eyes fluttered, and peered up into his cold and unforgiving eyes and any illusions of today being a new start for them were silently warped and ripped apart. She began to tremble, and he tightened his hands on hers. A wordless warning on his hard set lips, eyes flashing. She repeated her vows as instructed, and did her best to remember to keep breathing. The task surprisingly difficult as the claws of anxiety began to draw her down to their dangerous depths.  
Amid applause, and organ plunking, he raised her hand, his own tightened around hers in a triumphant fist. He led her down the aisle, and her cathedral train dragged along the burgundy liner, that had been covered in flower petals by the little flower girl. Rose stood in a receiving line doing her best to smile, greeting each of their guests, and embracing them, taking their congratulatory words, and wishes of a wonderful future with as much grace as possible, given the circumstances.  
A small reception was to follow at the Mansion where she would spend her wedding night. Cal murmured against her ear, as the last stragglers in line approached for their congratulations. " I thought we would take a little drive, you and I, before arriving as Husband and Wife." He gave a glance to where his man stood beside a vehicle that looked strikingly like the car in which she had eagerly given her virginity and virtue to Jack.  
"Oh God." She breathed, barely loud enough to be audible, but he grinned at her response. It was what he was hoping for, and his eyes lit with a dark excitement as he watched the effect the vehicle had on his new bride.  
Rose struggled with the last of the wedding guests, quietly murmuring her thank you's, and returning their embraces half heartedly, and it was only with the forceful grip of her new Husband that she made her way to the car.   
Cal's ever faithful body guard opened the door and she numbly climbed in with his and Cal's assistance, careful not to sully her gown. Sitting in the back seat and jumping when the door slam closed behind her. She took some deep breaths, her eyes scanning the all too familiar interior. Her heart began to pound and she blinked back tears as the memories of a happy time threatened to destroy her fragile grip on sanity.  
Climbing beside her, Cal settled in, and she paled when she saw out of her peripheral vision that the sounds that accompanied his awkward positioning and movements were from his hands busily unbuckling his belt. His bodyguard and driver climbed into the front seat and studiously ignored what was happening just behind him. The engine rumbling to life.  
"Please, not until tonight." Rose pleaded, her eyes drawn to her Husband's eager and nimble fingers, as he unbuttoned his trousers, continuing his removal, shoving the pants away, giving a low growl as the fabric caught on his erection as he moved his clothing aside.  
"Please." Repetition, maybe would get through to him, she thought. Realizing too late she had bet and lost, and that begging would accomplish nothing. If anything, her request had only made his need grow. His hand moved to yank out her veil, tossing it down to the floor of the back seat, he moved to adjust himself, one hand moving to stroke his growing need, the tip of him glistening with anticipation.  
"NO!" She yelped, as his remaining hand tightened in her beautifully coifed auburn locks. He hissed and began to tug her down toward his crotch, groaning a little at the cry she made. Licking his lips and taking a steadying breath he began to speak. His voice strange, heady with need, and dripping with malice.  
"You want to behave like a whore my little plucked flower? Well now you're going to use that smart mouth on me."  
She struggled against his attentions but in the end, he got his way. She clumsily did as he asked, nearly vomiting in the process, completely unaccustomed to something she found demeaning and vulgar. Something she would have not wanted to do under even the best circumstances. These were not the best circumstances.  
After finding his release buried deep in her throat, he released her, and took his handkerchief to clean himself up. After drying himself of saliva and what she hadn't swallowed of his seed, he offered her the handkerchief, and when she tried to give it back, his grin widened, eyes darkening.

"Wipe your mouth, Rose."

She swallowed back the wave of nausea that accompanied her humiliation, and refusing to meet his eye, gritting her teeth and blinking back the tears that had begun falling before he had forced his way between her lips.  
Taking the handkerchief and trying to find the driest part she used it to wipe the corners of her mouth. He took it and folded it neatly, replacing it in his pocket.   
"We'll need that for later. I'm certain we will make quite the mess. But first, we must have our reception."  
The guests had almost all arrived by the time Cal and Rose joined them in the dining room, tables set up around the giant room. Dozens of place settings, and extra staff hired for the occasion to serve all of their guests. Those who weren't considered as close to the family were seated in the adjoining ball room and when supper was cleared away, the servants busied themselves with removing the furniture, and the afternoon became evening with a string quartet playing in the corner of the ballroom.  
Being tradition for the Bride and Groom to lead with the first dance, Cal led her to the dance floor, and took her in his arms, leading her with ease across the dance floor. To their assembled guests they were the perfect example of a beautiful couple, and the assembled partygoers talked of the children they would have and the happy years to come.  
Sharing none of those sentiments, Rose was silent as her Groom danced with her. The song came to an end and he bowed formally to her before handing her off to his Father, a kindly Gentleman who danced as well as his son, but with none of the guile or cruelty streak that set Caledon Jr. apart from his namesake.  
For the first time since she had become a Hockley, she found herself smiling, however faintly. He welcomed her to the family and spoke of looking forward to being a Grandfather and how he intended to spoil them rotten. That he had been too strict on Cal, and would not make the same mistake with his grandchildren.  
The kindness of a man who shared her new last name calmed her slightly and with the many dances, and conversations, along with cake cutting and eating, the evening quickly turned to night. Rose found herself surprised when she found her armed gripped by Cal, his lips pressed against her ears.

"Say your farewells. Tonight I take your virginity, Wife."

Rose shuddered at his words, and did her best not to allow her confusion of his words to register on her face. Keeping her brow smooth, not allowing her usual thoughtful furrow. Surely he knew she wasn't a virgin? How could there have been any doubt given the proof of the union that had grown for such a short time. That small beautiful candle that had been snuffed away. She said her farewells, purposely ignoring her Mother, passing off her bouquet to Trudy, and receiving a glass in response.  
Sniffing the liquid and giving her maid a grateful smile when she recognized the smell of the "medicine" the Doctor had given her. Gulping it back gratefully and quickly before ascending the stairs and going to the bathroom to prepare herself for her wedding night. Trudy had hung her wedding night negligee in the bathroom and she paused to study the beautiful craftsmanship, though it perhaps would have been better suited for the stage. The heavy item was made of red satin, black lace, and heavy jet beading alternating in flattering lines along her waist and down the hips, the length of it shockingly shirt, stopping a few inches above her knees.  
Her reflection startled her a little. She was pale, her expression more terror then wedding night jitters. What more could Cal have in mind for her? She didn't look like herself. More like a caged fox, eyes alert with fear and waiting for a stronger, more frightening predator to strike. It didn't take long, and she jumped as he pounded on the door of the powder room that was attached to their Master bedroom.  
"Wife. Bed. Now." His orders crisp and clear. No room for her to question him. She opened the door, and his hand rose in a clear motion to stop, and she froze standing in the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom as he began to slowly circle her. Surveying her like merchandise, after a moment, murmuring. "In clothes like these, one could almost forget what a whore you are. But I won't ever forget. " He leaned in to sniff her hair and she shuddered at the strange motion and stayed frozen as his lips began to trail their way down her neck,.  
Despite her terror, or perhaps because of it, she gasped. Her trembling quickly transitioning to full blown shaking, as he whispered.  
"See what a little slut you are. Now every man should have a virgin for their wedding night."  
Raising her blue eyes to his, she grit her teeth at the steely resolve that met her, Cal's lips forming into a cruel smirk. "Since you left yours in third class, I'll have to explore somewhere no one has ever been. " His hands began to slide down the satin and beaded lingerie, resting finally around the gentle curve of her rear, one hand on each side cupping her, yanking forcefully and grinning at the obvious pain the motion caused, along with the realization of his intentions for the night.  
He chuckled softly, and without difficulty his hands shifted so he could lift her, carrying her and laying her down with mock gentleness on the flowered quilt that covered their wedding bed. Adding as he settled her down, moving to stroke her auburn hair.  
" There are expectations for you to bleed on your wedding night, and I assure you, Mrs. Hockley. You will."


	3. Chapter 3

Morning light penetrated the gossamer curtains of the large Eastern window. The sun was rising, bright and cheerful. Rose's eyes opened, and she realized she was curled into the fetal position, still nude from the previous evenings intrusions. Tentatively she turned her head and with relief found beside her only rumpled sheets. Her Husband, thankfully, had left her. 

Rising with some difficulty and grimacing at the pain that coursed through her. He had not been gentle, or tender. Not until after, when he had held her and kissed the top of her head. But even then, he had whispered a promise that had made her blood run cold. "Tomorrow, we'll begin trying for a child."

The thought of bringing a miniature Cal into the world filled her with none of the Motherly love and esteem that it should have. How could she feel anything but hate and disgust for the man who had crushed every one of her dreams beneath the heel of his well polished shoes.

She rose with some difficulty, and glancing at the promised blood on the sheets made her stomach turn, and she made her way to the en suite, taking her robe with her for after her bath. Sitting delicately on the edge of the tub and grimacing at the pain that radiated from the motion. Corking the tub, and beginning to fill it, grateful for all the latest of amenities.

If she must suffer through life, there was a small comfort that at least she would have the cushion of wealth. She poured some of the oils into the water and glanced up when there was a knock on the door that she had closed. Frowning, she asked, not without a little fear. "Who is it?"

Trudy's voice replied. "It's me, Miss. I brought your tea."

Rose nodded a little, rising with some difficulty and wrapping her robe around herself before opening the door to take it, smelling it, and nodding when she realized there was a hefty dose of her usual medicine with in, and she needed it today more then she had since the time she had first used it to dull the open wound of the forceful loss of a child.

Trudy was pale. And she glanced back at the sheets, and the blood there, before returning her attention to her friend and employer. "Should I brew another cup? What else can I do?"

A troubled smile was her response. Rose was more grateful for the concern then she would have expected to be and she nodded. "Please. Two cups of tea would be very appreciated this morning. Thank you, Trudy. "

Her servant nodded and scurried off to brew a stronger cup of tea, as Rose leaned against the counter, and gulped down the beverage, wincing a little at the way it burned down her throat, but finishing it within the time it took to fill the bath. Setting the empty cup aside, and gingerly slipping her robe back off, and setting it on the counter. 

Testing the heat of the bath with her foot, and giving a little hiss from the heat of it. Closing her eyes and stepping into the scalding water. The steam rising out of the porcelain claw foot tub. She gave a little cry of pain as she sunk her body into the heat. Tears instantly flooding her eyes. God, it hurt. But there was something satisfying in knowing that no remnant of his attack other then the terrible bruises that covered her thighs, front and back from how he had brutalized her could survive this heat. His teeth marks on her shoulder, from where he had bit down as he climaxed. 

She let the tears fall, grateful for the feeling of the medicine beginning to work its way through her bloodstream, and just taking a moment to mourn what little innocence she had left that had been ripped from her the night before. 

Trudy returned with the tea, and brought it to her as she bathed, expressing her disbelief and horror at the quiet admissions of the girl before her. She helped to wash her hair, and encouraged her to drink the tea. She let her soak, as she went about changing the sheets, and refitting the bed with clean linens. She helped Rose to dry off and helped her into a comfortable night gown and clean drawers.

Trudy tucked her into the bed and sat watch by her as she slept, refusing to leave her side for the remainder of the day, her other duties sorely neglected. She left her twice to prepare more of the tea when she woke in need, and when she returned the second time she found the door locked, and when she knocked, the voice of the man of the house answered.

" Your dismissed for the day, Trudy. Enjoy yourself. Go to the city, or to the church. Mrs. Hockley will require you again in the morning."

She left the tea beside the closed and locked door, hoping that Rose would be able to find it, and drink it, and she took Cal's advice, and found her way to the church, where Rose had married that monster, and she prayed that he would not hurt her further.

In her bedroom, Rose discovered her suspicions of Cal's tastes tended toward violence in every bedroom activity to be justified.

The soft white nightgown lay shredded on the ground, with what little had been left of her dignity.


End file.
